Solace
by DealingDearie
Summary: Ten years after the death of Princess Nuala and her brother, Prince Nuada, Abe sees a familiar face while at a bookstore. Could this be their second chance? Or will Nuada's interference cause history to repeat itself? Feedback is always appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

The books resting across the shelves are old, worn by time and negligence, as Abe runs his webbed fingers across their spines, images coming to his mind like long abandoned memories that were never truly his, stolen from the palms and kept in the heart. Beethoven floats through the air, soothing him as it always has, and the book store employees give him odd stares that he ignores to the best of his hard learned ability.

Red and Liz are just outside, holding the twins close, huddling in a corner to keep the cold away, and he remains baffled at the fact that they don't want to come in. Surrounded by the music of his soul and all the books in the world, who wouldn't want to be in this wonderful place? A small girl with fiery red hair walks by, clutching her mother's hand like a lifeline, her tongue frozen against an ice cream cone that she holds stock still as she stares at him, her blue eyes as wide as quarters.

Her freckles scrunch up as a perplexed expression crosses her face and she tugs on her mother's hand with vigor. "Mama, look! It's that fishman with the toilet seat on his neck!" Ah, now he understands. He has almost forgotten the people around him, their questioning thoughts that are too rude to even acknowledge. He shakes his head with a slight trace of annoyance and walks right by her, carefully avoiding brushing against the child, desperately trying to keep as many thoughts away as possible. He can sense the doubling amount, no, tripling, of eyes on him and so he picks up the pace and briskly walks to the back of the store, surrounded by the oldest books in stock.

He places a hand on the back wall to brace himself at the assault of images that pour into his mind, crowding him out and making him claustrophobic as memories are pushed from his mind, replaced by ones that aren't his, faces of foreign children slipping into view, birthday parties and crying in the rain and hospital visits all rolled into one jumble of whispers that nearly drive him insane. He takes three deep breaths and counts to twenty, just like Liz taught him, and closes his hand into a fist as he leans against a shelf, exhausted.

It takes him several moments to recompose himself, glad for the solace of this small space, and he finally relaxes. He turns and scans the books, plucking them from their spaces amid the dusty shelves to read the covers, careful fingers flipping the pages as he skims the stories.

He tilts his head in curiosity as he spots a single blue book, surrounded by empty spaces that might have once been filled, with golden lettering delicately written across the spine. He swallows, a tidal wave of memories threatening to come to the surface, and quickly picks it up, holding it like a father would hold his precious child.

He runs a finger across the raised letters of the title, feeling the smooth, worn bumps across the cover that remind him far too much of another book entirely, one that has been long abandoned at an agency he no longer cares for. Abe flips to page 93, the number burned into his brain, and silently reads the poem resting there, hidden between pages of romance and tragedy, a bittersweet merge of both. The echo of a voice, too distant to truly hear, haunts him as it always has and he doesn't have to hear the words to know what it's saying.

The melody pulls him to memories best left buried and he sighs at the sorrowful feeling washing over him, utterly and completely taking his will from him, and he has no choice but to surrender to that gentle voice, hanging on every word spoken from those soft lips. He's almost completely submerged in the memory, in the ghost of soft dresses and soft smiles, until the sharp sound of whispers cuts through the air. Abe snaps out of his familiar reverie, blinking away the images, and strains to hear.

He feels it before the sound can register, that surge of something achingly recognizable that floods his mind, and as the hush of a whisper of Tennyson reaches his ears, he spots a flash of green between the books. It moves forward and he follows suit, pressed against the book shelf to get a closer look. He walks in time with the emerging footfalls that pierce the air with every step, the clicking of shoes against hardwood bringing him back to the swish of a dress against carpet, and Abe holds his breath.

He nears the end of the bookshelf, a growing certainty creeping into his heart, and the gentle tap of shoes comes to a sudden halt as the merciful cover of the bookshelf falls away to reveal nothing but one single person in front of him.

Abe's breath comes to a sudden and cruelly abrupt halt as he freezes in his tracks, his heart jumping up to pound in time with the notes of Mozart. Nuala stares at him, her golden eyes as big as he's ever seen them, and her lips part in surprise, a book clutched in her pale hands. She blinks at him and takes a breath, as if to say something, anything, to cut the immediate tension in the air, the rush of unanswered questions and rapid thoughts that he knows she feels, but the words fall silent between them.

After ten years, how can the words fall silent? How can he not find his voice, much less the ability to breathe?

The loud jangle of the bell above the door reverberates past the music and makes Nuala jump, knocking Abe out of his trance. He can feel Red's presence, as strong as anything could possibly be, barreling toward him. He could leave right now and stop Red from making a scene at how much time has passed, leave right now and never turn back, but can he, really? Can he turn away from the beautiful ghost that haunts his dreams, when he can't even turn from her when he _is _dreaming?

The decision takes less time than the time it takes to blink and he knows with certainty that she's just thought the same. "Abraham," she murmurs against the blaring voices of a brewing argument that stand out in the quiet shop, her voice as tender as a lover's last breath. His sigh is caught up in the softest breath he's ever taken, her name leaving his lips as easily as anything he's ever done in his entire life, like he was born to do just this. "Princess," he whispers, the lilt of aftershock in both their voices.

Their heads turn at the sound of a yell and they both hurry past the rows of books to where Red is pointing a stone finger at one of the workers, Liz's eyes lit up with fire beside him as the twins, now temperamental teenagers, huddle close behind. It's hard to understand what either party is saying, thanks to the music and the constant need to yell that Red was born with, and Abe shakes his head.

"Red, stop it!" Abe interjects, pushing forward to put an arm on his friend's shoulder. And he truly does stop, images pouring from Abe's mind to his. Red's mouth closes in surprise and he swivels to look at Nuala, his amber eyes wide with shock. Liz's mouth falls open and she backs away, wary of the ghost from her past.

Nuala looks to her feet, suddenly aware of the attention, her pale hands nervously fidgeting with each other. Red gives her a lasting glance that's more calculating than Abe's ever seen and reluctantly nods in understanding.

He looks around him and motions for Abe to join him as he starts to walk away. "You, too, your highness."

**Please R&R! After I wrote this, I kept reading it over and over again and I'm not entirely sure it's all that good. What do you think? Should I continue this? Feedback is very much appreciated! ;)**

**All rights go to their respectful owners. I own nothing. **


	2. Chapter 2

The house is welcoming, quaintly placed in the middle of the country side, overlooking the water that laps against the cliff edges of Ireland. Nuala doesn't mind the poorly paved driveway, or the bumps that cause her to quite suddenly slam into Abraham, or even the dust that swirls into the air as Red's four-wheel drive Jeep Wrangler whips into a gravel-covered space just in front of the house, causing them all to lurch forward and almost hit the seats in front of them.

Abe puts a hand on the door to steady himself and blinks at Red in the rearview mirror, annoyance radiating off of him in waves. The twins are the first to leave, rushing past Nuala and hopping onto the ground, their red tails swishing in the air as they run into the house. Liz chases after them, set on having a long talk with everyone, and Red groans in protest at the idea as he jumps down, his trench coat flapping in the breeze.

Abe opens the door, his movements slow, and he looks to Nuala, as if to make sure that she's not just a figment of his imagination. He offers her a hand and she reluctantly takes it, her cheeks glowing gold as they step out together, their thoughts mingling.

...

They all sit at the kitchen table, surrounded by report cards and 10 year old pictures stuck to the refrigerator in one big collage of the life Nuala missed out on, and no one speaks for a long time, awkward silence simmering between them. Liz half-heartedly spreads her arms out, smirking.

"Welcome to our humble abode," she says softly, awkward tension coiled around her voice.

The princess looks up in surprise, folding her hands on top of the table in front of her, and she gives a small smile, politely resisting the urge to laugh.

"Ah, thank you. It's quite", she looks around, at the dripping faucet that's making far too much noise and the dust dancing in the sunlight coming through the kitchen window, and she nods, "cozy," she finishes.

The twins look at her, their amber eyes glowing with curiosity, and their dark hair reflects the light as they tilt their heads, almost simultaneously. The girl, a teenage bundle of energy as she taps her fingers against the table, looks to her parents and then to her brother beside her, ready to say something, anything, to get the ball rolling, but it's Abe who speaks next.

"I suppose we should get everyone caught up on any…questions," he offers, his voice trailing off as he blinks at Nuala, his black eyes making her heart beat faster.

"Yeah", Red adds, leaning back in his chair as he looks to his children, "Kids, this is Princess Nuala. Last time we saw her, we were trying to help her protect the world from her evil twin brother," and at the word 'twin' the teens look to one another, "and long story short, they both died." He brings his stone arm down on the kitchen table and it makes a loud thud that nearly makes the elf jump. Liz rolls her eyes at him.

"Question is, how the hell are you alive?"

Abe sighs, aggravated. "Perhaps it would be more proper to tone down the language, Red, and the princess might need some time to recover from…", he looks to her, hoping she'll finish his sentence for him, and at her silence he blinks, "whatever it is she's been through." Red shrugs him off with a wave of his hand and looks to Nuala expectantly.

She stares at them, at the family she never got to witness, and feels Abe's presence beside her, knowing that she at least owes him this much. "The Angel of Death resurrected my brother and me. She came to me in this white, clouded haze and told me that this wasn't part of her plan. When I asked her what was, she was gone and I was waking up, the hole in my chest healed as if it had never been there at all. The only indication that I had not been dreaming the entire ordeal was the dagger beside me; it was crusted over with blood."

Nuala looks down at her hands, inspecting her golden nails, her voice trembling.

"My brother, he was waking up. I had to leave Bethmora to escape him," she recalls, her large eyes shining.

"And how long have you been…back?" Abe asks reluctantly, absentmindedly leaning into her words as she swallows nervously. Nuala opens her mouth, stopping just before the words leave her, and she acts afraid.

"A year," she sighs, a frightful tremble in her gentle voice.

Abe blinks in sudden surprise, quickly jumping back in his chair, as if burned, and his gills flap faster as he looks away, his Adam's apple bobbing, and he quickly leaves the room, smoothly standing up and stepping into the hallway before anyone can stop him, as Nuala watches him walk away with the most devastating remorse shining in her milky golden eyes.

...

Trevor, as he so loudly introduced himself, opens the door to Nuala's new room, letting it swing open all the way, and his sister, Sierra, rolls her eyes at him, an amused smirk on her face. "Always the drama," she comments, walking past Nuala and into the room. She spreads her arms wide, ignoring the rude comeback from Trevor, and looks to the elf.

"Here's your room. It's not very fancy", she looks to the walls, where the blue paint is slowly starting to peel off, and laughs, "as you can see, but I think you'll like it."

She points to the alarm clock resting on the small mahogany night table, the dark electronic box that Nuala stares quizzically at.

"If you want to know how to use it, we'll show you, but I doubt you'll need it because Uncle Abe starts playing his music as soon as he wakes up, which is right before sunrise," Sierra says, rolling her eyes in aggravation. "Every. Single. Morning."

She walks past Nuala, mumbling something about classical music and how it should be outlawed, and Trevor nods politely to her as he closes the door.

"Breakfast is whenever Abe feels like making it", he whispers, "because we all really suck at cooking." And with that, he shuts the door, throwing the room into silence, and Nuala turns to run her fingers across the silky sheets on top of the bed, the ocean hue calming her frantic nerves.

The walls are plain, shadows on the wall where pictures once hung, and she trails her fingers there as she walks over to the spacious closet, turning the knob to pull the door open. The area is plain, she notices, save for the lone over dress hanging in the corner. Her eyes widen as she pulls it out, fingering the soft blue cloth she knows so well, running her palms over the golden beads at the waist.

Tears come to her eyes as she senses Abraham, false memories rushing to her fingers, feelings she never experienced, sorrow not her own, invading her senses as she gasps.

He kept her dress. _He kept her dress._

Nuala folds it over her arm, her shoulders relaxing with steely resolve, and she hurries out of the room, the click of her shoes echoing in the hall.

...

Abe runs his fingers across the poem, the all too familiar poem, as he stares at the book he just bought. The memories don't come to him, don't take over his mind, like they did at the agency, but the fresh hurt, the raw sorrow, still hovers in his heart. She was alive for a _year_, and she never even contacted him.

He tries so hard to resist the rage that comes to him, tries with all he has to replace it with elation at her newly discovered life, but he can't, because, despite Abe's appearance, he is all too human. He blinks as classical music flows through the air, Vivaldi, he thinks, and the click of the latch on the library door pulls him out of whatever dark corner he was heading for. He turns, surrounded by books in his small library he built just for himself, and his heart beats faster at the sight he finds.

The princess closes the door behind her, the green silk of her dress dragging against the red carpet as she walks toward him, and she holds in her hand something he put away for a reason, to put the memories away in a closet that he would never have to look in. Her pale hair shines in the light, ivory colored cloth glinting at her waist, and she smiles sheepishly, holding out the overdress.

"You…," she starts, her words dying in the air with a soft sigh. Her breaths are soft, her sadness thick as it hangs in the air, and her face is dark with the pressure of holding back her tears. "You kept this," she finally whispers, staring at him incredulously as he blinks rapidly, his gills fluttering faster than he'd like.

"Of course I did," Abe explains, his own brand of sadness creeping into his voice. "It was the only thing I had left."

At that, Nuala shrinks back, harshly reminded of what took place ten years ago, of her decision to leave Abraham, to abandon him to this world alone, and she swallows thickly, a tear escaping as it falls down her cheek, ice cold against her burning skin. Abe notices her distress immediately, quickly rushing over to her, his hands nearly wrapped around hers, and he stops just before he touches her, backing away a few feet, scared of going too far too soon, and he shakes his head quickly.

"Princess, I'm sorry. I-I didn't intend to upset you," he says feverishly, desperately wishing her tears would vanish from such a beautiful face. They roll across her pale scars and she sniffles.

"It is not any fault of yours that I shed these tears, Abraham," she soothes, her voice horribly shaky. "It is but my own," she whispers, hurriedly wiping the tears from her cheeks as she looks to him, her eyes shining.

"I-I'm sorry that I…didn't come to you. I only waited so long for fear that my brother would follow me", and she looks to her feet, sadly shaking her head, "He hasn't interfered as of yet, but I fear…" Her voice disappears entirely, her sobs returning, and Abe finds the courage to gently put a hand atop her own, pressing his palm against her knuckles, fiercely resisting the urge to run his fingers across them.

The princess looks up suddenly, her eyes as round as saucers, and the small smile she gives him sends his heart racing against his ribs.

"It's alright, Princess," Abe says. "I understand."

Her smile only widens.

"Please, Abraham, call me Nuala. 'Princess' sounds so…", and she struggles for a word, "formal."

Abe blinks in surprise, his hand still resting on hers, and the warmth she gives off makes him think that, in that very moment, as she smiles up at him with that shy, newborn glint in her golden eyes, she looks like the most breathtaking angel fallen straight from Heaven itself.

**Please R&R! Feedback is very much appreciated! ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

The hum of Beethoven pulls Nuala from her well needed sleep as she opens her bleary eyes, groggily blinking away the hazy light that floods her vision, orange rays thrown against the pale blue of the walls. She sits up in bed, half-heartedly pushing back the warm covers as she tilts her head, and listens to the music, a smile pulling her skin as his thoughts come to her as easily as anything she's ever done in her long existence.

She catches images, glimpses of the cozy kitchen and its bright walls, too harsh a red for so early in the morning, and the stove meets her, food, a skillet. Breakfast, she thinks. The elf quickly hurries out of bed and rushes into her closet, eager to assist Abraham in any way she can, but a sense of disappointment falls upon her as she opens the closet door, revealing that same blue overdress and nothing else.

How quickly she forgot that this was not her home.

She looks down to her emerald hued dress and shrugs, walking out of her room as she tries to remember where the kitchen is.

...

Abe gets horribly, annoyingly, frustratingly, maddeningly bored.

He sits in his small library, surrounded by books more familiar to him than the back of his own hand, and hopes to capture the sound of a new song drifting in the air, knowing deep down that the notion is impossible, and he yearns for something, anything, new.

He dreams of going and seeing the world, but the nightmare of severing his family connections always falls upon him. He fantasizes about someone looking at him, a new face, a new name, and not looking away in disgust.

Someone, a new face, a new name, like the name that rolls off of his tongue just like he was born to do it as he turns around, his back to the stove, jumping in surprise.

"Nuala," he breathes, startled, and she smiles in apology.

The dress she wears is the same, he thinks, except that he might be seeing it in a different light, his heart fluttering against his ribs as he notices how tightly the cloth hugs her slim waist, wrapped around her hips in the embrace of a lover, simple, meaningful, and he blinks away the thoughts he knows she's sure to catch. She tilts her head at him, her eyes bright, hopeful, even, and she swallows nervously.

"I was hoping to…learn?"

It sounds more like a question than a statement as she gestures to the stove and he doesn't skip a beat.

"Of course," Abe exclaims, motioning for her to come over so they can begin before he starts to cook.

Their voices drift down the halls along with the smell of bacon and eggs, happy melodies in perfect harmony, and the new face Abe stares at is impressionistic, long lasting eyes that haunt his nights, and the new name he speaks feels like water on his tongue after a thousand days without it.

...

"So, the twins", Nuala says, walking circles around the large backyard patio with Abe, her hands clasped together in front of her, "how are they teenagers, if it's only been ten years?"

She looks to him expectantly and he shrugs, blinking wildly.

"We didn't really know what to expect when they were born, but they seemed to grow overnight, barely fitting into the same size clothing after a month or so. It was…intimidating," he explains, his black shirt tucked tightly into his equally dark shorts, the same outfit she recalls from the agency, making him stand out against the light sky.

"Then, after a few years, they just slowed down. They started to age more like Red does."

He looks to the princess and she swears she can see a smirk plastered on his expressionless face, but he looks to a tree in the distance and the image is lost to her.

"Naturally, Liz had her concerns. She worried that she wouldn't have much time with the kids, since she's only human," he sighs, his gills flapping calmly as she watches, her eyes flickering back and forth with the movement.

"But we've all learned to accept things as they are and just", he blinks at her, tilting his head to the side, watching her like she's the most interesting puzzle, "roll with the punches."

Nuala nods in thought as they step side by side across a brick sticking out of the patio floor, precariously placed, and she frowns at it.

"They must think me strange," she murmurs, her golden hair falling forward to cover her eyes, and so she doesn't see the way Abe looks at her, the shine of something guarded and inscrutable deep in his eyes.

"Why would you say that?" Abe asks, tilting his head as they start another circle.

She laughs, a soft, rushed breath of disbelief that catches him off guard, and the small smile that accompanies it sends his heart pounding.

"I am a stranger here, Abraham", and she cuts his curt response off with a gentle hand, her golden nails glinting in the light as they hang in the hair, "and no matter how much I may wish it was not so, these people, your family, they don't know me as you do," she explains softly, her eyes horribly downcast.

Abe shakes his head quickly, walking past her to stand in front of her, stopping the princess in her tracks as she looks to him, her eyes wide, reminding him of a deer caught in the headlights.

"Then they'll just have to deal with it," he states, his voice rushed and determined.

Nuala looks to her feet and laughs, shaking her head sadly.

"You cannot make them, Abraham," she whispers, turning from him to return to the house, her shoes clicking against the red bricks as she does so.

She opens one of the sliding doors and turns to look at him, a loose strand of hair blowing in the breeze, and she smiles at him.

"I need to get some of my belongings if I am to stay here, if it's not too much trouble?"

Abe stares, absentmindedly nodding.

"Yes, yes of course," he replies, lost to the swish of her dress as she nods, closing the glass door behind her, disappearing from his view, and all he can see is that new face, that new face and the saddest smile he's ever seen, chilling him to the bone as he's reminded of a time long ago, when she smiled like that, when her eyes shone wholeheartedly up at him, the loneliest despair written in their golden depths, and he never figured out why, not until she was fading in his arms, fading fast into a memory she was always meant to be.

**Please R&R! Feedback is always appreciated! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Nuala is horribly skittish, her golden eyes flickering from side to side beneath the hood of her cloak, and Abe sends her a reassuring thought to let her know that he's there, the crinkle of the skin beside her eyes indication of the smile hidden behind the brown cloth.

He figures that it was part of her cloak to shield her royal scars from prying eyes, or perhaps to shield them from herself, and the thought of her ever being self-aware, _too_ self-aware, sends a rush of anger through him; she's much too beautiful to think like that. She blinks at him, like she knows his every thought, and if he could blush, he would be painted scarlet.

People shove past them, bumping against shoulders and arms and nearly knocking them both over with the hustle and bustle of what Abe assumes is a busy day for the Troll Market. The princess comes to a slow halt beside a seamstress shop, wrapping her slender hand around the wooden door handle as Abe follows her in. Tattered cloth hangs in decoration at every corner of the room, the sound of needles clicking together floating in the air.

A woman pushes aside two curtains in the middle of the room, a door of sorts, and her black fingernails are nearly grotesque, spotted hands and pointed ears and eyes as black as the midnight sky. The ebony lace delicately wrapped around her seems like a cocoon as it trails after her, her shoes clicking against the concrete floor, sliding against dust and grime, tattered fabric flowing in the air. The woman's hair is luscious, brown curls atop more silky brown curls, and she's nearly as tall as Abe himself, gangly limbs and slender frame topped with a crooked smile that brightens her face as she sees the princess, spreading her arms wide as she dips low, bowing her head in respect.

Nuala tilts her own in response and the hint of a smile plays on her soft lips.

"Welcome, Your Highness," the woman greets, walking over to the counter to click her nails against the surface. Nuala nods.

"Thank you, Seamstress."

She looks around her, hands nervously folded to rest against her dress.

"I was wondering if you still had any of my dresses, the ones I left here," she says, tilting her head in question.

The seamstress cracks another smile, revealing sharp white teeth that sparkle in the dim light, and points to the curtains she came through.

"They're right where you put them, Your Highness," she purrs, narrowing her eyes at Abe as they both walk over to the curtains. Nuala pushes them aside, revealing a mess of tattered cloth, pins and needles lying haphazardly across the table, glinting at their stares.

She walks to a small wardrobe in the corner of the room, pushing away half-finished outfits and silky robes as she opens the doors to a few dozen dresses, all vibrant and fresh, as if Nuala had just put them in yesterday. The princess smiles in relief and runs her fingers down the sides, her eyes glossy with the memories that come to her, and Abe looks on, blinking rapidly, trying as hard as he can not to stare too much at the single tear escaping her eye.

...

If the first car ride Nuala ever experienced was terrifying, the second was much, much worse.

...

She walks into the house on trembling feet, Abraham's apology ringing through her ears as she shakes her head.

It's not his fault she doesn't like car rides.

She passes through the small hallway by the door, looking back at him with a timid smile as they both carry her dresses to her room, setting them down on the bed with care. Abe's gills flutter and he inclines his head, walking out of the room with haste. She watches him go, curiosity glinting in her eyes. The princess tries as hard as she can to arrange her new life, placing dress after dress in the small closet, all the while actively avoiding the thought of her brother, dark eyes haunting her nights and dark voice haunting her heart.

...

Trevor glances at her, his amber eyes bright against his crimson skin, and his long tail swishes back and forth behind him, distracting the princess from the flashes on the television. She smiles politely at him, nervously anticipating the onslaught of questions she feels stirring in his mind, and Sierra comes over to nudge him playfully, smiling.

"So, are you like a zombie?" Trevor asks, pulling Nuala from her thoughts.

She turns her head to look at the boy, his face a mask of seriousness, and she shakes her head in amusement.

"Why would she be a zombie?" Sierra questions, giving her twin a look.

"She was brought back by the Angel of Death, stupid. Zombies aren't brought back by Angels of Death."

Her voice is matter-of-fact and the princess strains to keep from laughing. Sierra wedges in between them on the small sofa, her shoulders brushing against them as she settles with a sigh, grabbing the remote to change the channel. Trevor rolls his eyes in annoyance, holding up a finger as an idea springs to his mind. She feels the question coming, of course, but is no more ready for it.

"If you and your brother are linked, then where is he? Wouldn't he be following you, since he's so evil?"

The boy looks to her, tilting his head, and Nuala knows that he picked the habit up from Abraham, who uses his hands to speak more than he uses his mouth, who tilts his head in a different way every second, blinking in curiosity. The image of him, of his kind face and gentle ways, leaves a burning pain in her heart at her next words.

"I don't know," she says, shaking her head.

He's about to say something else, prodding her for information, but Liz walks in, black pants and shirt standing out against the blue walls. She comes over to them, her eyes irritated, and they look to each other, grimacing.

"Have you done your homework?" Liz asks, crossing her arms, one eyebrow raised.

The twins shrug nervously, shaking their heads.

"Not really," they reply simultaneously, frowning. Liz rolls her eyes and points to the stairs.

"Go to your rooms and get it done," she orders, her commanding voice so different from the gentle lull the princess remembers, a voice scarred from years of ridicule.

They ease out of their seats and slink up the stairs, muttering angrily. Liz relaxes when they leave, looking down at the elf with a small smile.

"Sorry about that. They can be really curious sometimes," she murmurs, laughing.

Nuala smiles and shakes her head, standing.

"It's quite alright, Liz. Children will be children," she says, starting to move past the pyrokinetic.

"I hate to, but I have to ask", Liz puts a small hand on Nuala's arm, stopping her, "Why _isn't _your brother following you? He seemed pretty relentless last time I saw him."

She doesn't see the way Nuala's eyes darken, or the way her mouth twitches, and her smile is as oblivious as ever. Nuala turns, shaking her head in feigned confusion.

"I'm not sure. I've been in Bethmora, trying to rebuild the kingdom after the army, you know. Last time I saw him was when I fled the Golden Army chambers, when I woke up."

She looks around her, shrugging her small shoulders.

"I haven't felt much from him since."

Liz nods and waves goodbye, tucking her hands into her pockets, walking out of the living room and down the hallway, her silhouette disappearing in shadow.

Nuala sighs as she leaves, the burden of a lie resting like lead on her tongue.

**Please R&R! ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

_Abe's webbed fingers run down her arm, the pads of his palms flitting across her skin, and his lips are cold against hers. His other hand rests flat against her back, pulling her flush against him, and she drapes her arms around his neck, feeling his muscles tense as he pushes her against the wall._

Nuala blinks suddenly, small lips parted in surprise, and a golden blush creeps onto her face, eyes guilty. The clink of silverware makes her turn, meeting Red's curious gaze, and she offers a polite smile, biting her lip as she tries to calm her fast pounding heart. The dinner is quiet, uneventful save for the occasional awkward cough, and Nuala has never felt more uncomfortable, seated beside Abe as he blinks at her, absentmindedly chewing his food with a concerned twinkle in his deep eyes. She pushes her food around in her plate, fork scraping against the porcelain, and sighs quietly.

Or not so quietly.

Her golden eyes widen and she looks up, five pairs of eyes staring at her from across the table, and she smiles in apology, taking a bite of the lasagna she helped Abe make. Liz and Red look at each other before going back to their food, glancing at her from the corner of their eyes every once in a while.

Trevor and Sierra make a game out of who can eat the most, faces determined as they chew viciously, and Abe tilts his head at them, blinking in curiosity.

...

Nuala pulls a CD from one of the many shelves in the small library, holding it with two fingers as she gives it a funny look, mouth quirked up and eyebrows raised. Abe watches from his tank, feeling the amusement as much as he feels the anxiety at her presence, and wishes that he could laugh, that he could show an ounce of emotion to this woman who's so full of it, her eyes sparkling with interest as she opens the case.

It takes her a minute to figure out how to get the disc out of its case, turning it over and watching as the light reflects on the back. He should tell her that getting fingerprints all over it isn't a good idea, her nails scraping against it, and might possibly cost him a good CD, but he can't really find the heart to ruin her little endeavor. She squints at it, looking up to the stereo she's seen Abe use before, and she pushes the first button she sees, jumping back in surprise as the disc holder pops out.

She inspects the shape and looks down at the CD in her hand, frowning, before she lays it in the holder, biting her lip with anticipation. After a while, she pushes the button again, stepping back as music floats through the room, a satisfied smile lighting her features.

Abe feels his heart pick up speed, watching her smile to herself, looking like the very image of an angel, his savior in every sense of the word, golden eyes and golden hair and golden heart all wrapped up in a single person.

...

Abe was never one for emotion, favoring more toward reason and cold calculation, distant observations and detached relationships, a simple greeting to an agent he'd likely never cross paths with again, until he met the professor.

The professor was an enigma full of trembling excitement and kind eyes, aged laughter and sharp intelligence. He was honest smiles and comforting words, a father if he'd ever seen one. The professor made Abe see how fortunate he was, to have such a gift, to see the thoughts and know the feelings of every person he encountered, but when he met Red, he found out how hard that could be, as well.

Red was rage, rage and shame and frustration, and he was arrogant and prideful and spiteful, rude and teasing. But he was a friend, a rare smile when Abe realized he'd made a joke, a concerned glance when Abe took a bullet for him, a brother in everything but blood. Liz came after, after the worst days of Red's long life, the wave of ridicule dying down, but she was Abe's sister, his family, and he wouldn't have had it any other way. They made him see life, emotions, in a whole new light, made him stay and chat with an agent and always be there to lend a helping hand, even if no one wanted it.

They made him believe in family, in trust and bonds that could withstand even death.

But not love. He didn't believe in the look in their eyes, the way they held each other as they kissed.

He didn't understand it, didn't know what it was like, until Nuala.

She made him want to give her everything he knew he could never truly give her, made him want to hand over his heart in the blink of an eye. He wanted to die for her, would gladly do it at any moment, and he wanted to laugh and cry and smile, all the things he _just couldn't do._ She made him want to wrap her in his arms and see what it was like to kiss someone, to feel another person's heart pounding against your chest, to lie next to them, hands intertwined, delving into their mind, their soul. He wanted to live for her, wanted to spend the rest of his existence caught in her stare, her gentle smile, and he wanted it more than anything else in the entire world.

He wanted to hold an angel in his arms just to see if her glorious light could warm him.

...

Nuala is jealous, or maybe just too envious, and she doesn't want to be, doesn't want to harbor feelings she was taught to stay away from, and she sighs, staring at Red and Liz from her bedroom window, their hands locked together, walking side by side down a time worn path in their backyard. Her golden eyes shine as they laugh with one another, watching the twins run after each other in a game of soccer, and their kiss sends a flare of anger rushing through her.

Why can't she have that?

She shrugs away the thought in earnest, surprised by her own mind, and frowns with worry. She should be happy for them, happy that they've found one another in such a way, but she's far too covetous of what they have, plagued by the probing query of why she can't have that with Abe.

She knows why. She knows the very reason, the root of all her problems these days. The cut she tries so hard to hide, right there across the back of her hand, says it all. She runs her pale fingers across the wound and tears trickle down her cheeks, leaving cold trails in their wake.

She falls onto her bed, sobbing, and grabs her pillow, burying her face in its soft surface, fingers curling around the downy feathers within, and her muffled scream is lost to the winter breeze floating in from the open window.

...

"Why is it that you don't smile?"

The question catches Abe off guard, making him jump, and he turns to find the princess behind him, her eyes wandering to the stack of books he has open, a late night way of quelling his boredom. Her nightgown is a silky blue, shining in the dim light, and the candle in her hand makes him wonder when they even got candles in the first place. The light casts an eerie glow on her pale face and she smiles in apology, peeking up at him through thick strands of moonlit hair.

Distant thunder claps in the night and she blinks in surprise at the loud noise, moving beside him, the crinkle of her gown the only sound he can really hear in the silent wake of the booming thunder. The delicate white lace crawls from underneath her sleeve to wrap around her wrist and creeps out from under her collar, gently hugging her neck, and the intricate patterns therein leave Abe staring with interest. He shrugs absentmindedly, gills flapping faster.

"I just can't. It's never happened before, I doubt it'll happen any time soon," he murmurs, flipping a page in one of his books.

Nuala looks to her entwined fingers and imagines his palms running over the backs of her hands, his arms wrapped around her in the dim candlelight, and a soft sigh escapes her.

"Perhaps", she looks up to him, light dancing across her delicate features, "you just haven't been happy enough to smile."

Abe tilts his head at her, blinking. If that were true, he wonders how he could possibly be any happier than he is now, a hair's breadth away from her smooth, inviting skin, and he leans into her warmth before he knows what he's doing. Nuala doesn't notice the distance between them, the proximity of their hands, and her finger brushes against the back of his hand, running against smooth, cool skin, and the spark the contact creates within her gives her pause.

Her skin feels like it's on fire, like she's trapped in an inferno, and only he can quell the flames, his cold skin easing the heat.

She closes her eyes against the burn of light and sighs, her heart fluttering like a trapped butterfly, but the crack of lightning bursts across the skies, kissing the windows with its electric glow, and they jump back from each other, startled.

**Please R&R! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

The reflection Nuala stares into is not her own, dark shadows rimming the eyes and black color stretched across thin lips, deep scars angrily etched onto an even angrier expression, deep voice taunting with the memories it beckons. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, and when she opens them to look back in the mirror, her own face greets her.

There is a soft flutter within her, a small seed of unrest that can only grow, and Nuala feels fear, as familiar as ever, creeping up her spine, slowly coiling around her and leaving her helpless. She sighs as she looks to the window, the dark veil of night sweeping over the countryside of Ireland, and she can believe for the smallest moment that she's back in Bethmora, a naïve child wrapped in silken gowns and priceless jewels, safely cocooned in her world of comfort and luxury, a place that shields her from every danger and harm.

She can convince herself that the voice lingering in her head, made comfortingly familiar by years of hearing it, is coming from just beside her, a small hand covering her own, golden eyes shining with light, bright, wonderful light that never got extinguished, that was never smothered by hatred and greed, and the thought pulls at her until she can barely breathe, the grief of loss so strong that she nearly falls to her knees, overtaken with sorrow.

...

The moment Nuala has been dreading finally confronts her with all the force and power of a wild bull, something so undeniable that fate itself must have created it.

She's come to discover that Abe reads at least four books at once, completely immersed in each one, and the thought makes her stare as he turns the pages, his gills flapping slowly as he absently tilts his head with interest.

She leafs through the pages of the book in her hands, distracted by the soft sound of his breathing, and she soon falls into the habit of staring at the wall just beside Abe, so determined not to look at him that she doesn't notice him staring back at her, blinking his eyes with a growing concern. He gently closes the books he's reading and points to her hand, a question in his eyes, and only then does she realize her foolishness, quickly trying to pull her sleeve over the cut there.

"What happened there?"

Abe asks, his voice laced with genuine concern, and Nuala shakes her head, hastily turning to put the book back in its place, trying to hide what he's already seen. "I just cut myself in the kitchen", she swallows thickly, face hot with anxiety, "that's all."

The elf doesn't dare turn to face him as Abe walks up beside her, sending her a sideways glance, and she bites her lip, unable to resist the sudden urge to look at him.

"Then why have you been hiding it?"

Of course.

Of course he would notice, the way she absently tugs on her sleeve every now and then, her body twisting at odd angles to conceal her hands, arms held behind her back as she walks, anything and everything to prevent this very moment, and he's known all along. With a sudden sinking feeling, Nuala knows she won't be able to keep anything from him, not when this particular thing has her backed in a corner, desperately searching for a way out. She turns from him and walks to the small table in the middle of the library, the hum of Mozart ringing in her ears, as if heard from a great distance, and that's all she feels; distance.

How could she be so foolish, so naively hopeful? How could she let this happen, when she knew it could only be taken from her? Why should she ever expect a happy ending? Abe warily walks to a chair and pulls it out, gesturing for the princess to sit, and as he takes a seat, she follows, sighing heavily.

"I didn't cut myself," she murmurs hoarsely, voice trembling, and Abe tilts his head at her. Nuala glances up at him, eyes pleading, and Abe wishes with everything he has that he could help her. "My brother cut his hand", and her own hands shake with sudden fear as Abe loses his breath, staring at her, unblinking, "I feel his presence almost as much as I did when we were children."

She waits for a reaction, realizing that she's almost eager to see how he'll respond, but he just shakes his head. "And you think he'll come after you?" It's not a question, not when Abe says it with such certainty, and the lump in Nuala's throat grows with dread. She looks away, reluctant to meet his steady gaze, and gives a slight nod.

"I know he will."

...

The silence is not helpful, as they sit on Nuala's soft bed, lying heavy between them; moments of tension and deep unrest sizzling in the air, the princess can't keep the tears from her eyes. Abe absently picks at the edge of the blue sheet they're lying on, his big eyes staring at anything but her, and she sniffles, her cheeks wet.

"If he comes here, Red will surely want to kill him," Abe murmurs, his voice thick with something Nuala doesn't recognize, and she frowns in thought, images of the small family she's come to think fondly of flashing in her mind.

"People will get hurt. Red might even _actually_ try to kill the prince", and Abe blinks, as if startled, "and that would put you in danger." Nuala laughs, a small, pitiful sound, and swallows her sobs.

"I have been in danger my entire life, Abraham. There is hardly anything anyone could do to put me even further into the cross hares." The princess sighs, gazing out of her window, where the sun shyly peeks out of its slumber, gracing the world with its bright glow, and she shakes her head sadly. "I won't let any harm come to your family, this I swear," she whispers, such conviction hidden in her voice that it makes Abe stop in his tracks.

That conviction, that determined will, is something he knows well, and as the elf stands to leave for the kitchen, he rushes to grab her, wrapping cold fingers around her arm as she twirls to meet him, chest to chest and face to face. "I know the meaning behind your words, princess", and Nuala flinches at the habitual nickname, "but I can't let you just sacrifice yourself again." Nuala shifts on her feet, sighing uncomfortably, and gently pulls her arm from his grip.

"There has to be another way, some alternative we have yet to think of. This family won't go down without a great fight, and it definitely won't stand by and watch you die for a second time", he takes a shuddering breath and Nuala sees the glint of emotion within his fathomless gaze, "_I won't_."

She swallows thickly and her eyes shine with bright desperation. "He's going to try to do everything in his power to take me, be it harming my people or my…" Abe looks to her, shaking. "my family," Nuala says, a powerful light illuminating her features, her jaw set with stubborn will.

"I deeply respect your desire to save those you care for, Nuala", and his voice is as grim as death itself, as if he knows the very thought creeping into her heart, "but you can't give your life like this." Nuala reaches the door and turns to stare at him, a steely resolve darkening her features, and just as she feels her brother's heart beat in time with hers, she feels Abe's own heart break with the weight of her burden.

"Watch me."

**Please R&R!**


	7. Chapter 7

The next week might pass in a blur, a hazy flood of dark dreams and muffled screams in the night, trembling hands as another cut appears out of nowhere, but it might also pass as an eternity would; prolonged, a distinct flash of painful clarity, a tangled jumble of small whispers, a concerned glance thrown from across the room, and maybe even a hand wrapped securely around shaking fingers.

Nuala doesn't truly take notice, either way. She feels as if she's drowning, slowly drifting further and further into the murky depths of an ocean, and is utterly helpless to save herself, water rushing into her lungs as a burning pain assaults her, and she can only watch in ever increasing panic, desperation flaring in the very back of her mind as she fades into oblivion.

The only thing, it seems, that can ever hope to anchor her, that can even stand a sliver of a chance at pulling her from the one thing that would surely kill her, is also the one thing she has mostly tried to avoid, making a conscious effort to turn a corner when they run into each other in the hallway, sticking her nose in a book, feigning extreme attention, as he enters the-_ his, hers, their-_library.

She's done a fine job, if one were to look upon the surface, at how adept the she has become at shying away from Abe, but in the darkest hours of the night, when all is quiet and peaceful, Nuala's mind is very much not. She tosses and turns in fear, drenched in sweat as the sheets stick to her, and her dreams chase her into dark corners where only monsters dare dwell. But Abe is there, all too soon noting her distress, and pulls the sheets from her burning body, blessed air chilling her skin, and it would usually end there, with soft murmurs echoing long into the night, a hand beside her, thoughts colliding with the horrible images in her head, shooing them off as if they were no more than a mere nuisance.

It would stop, she thinks as she enters another dream, her arms pressed against the mattress, immobile with sorrow and terror, as she shakes and trembles and shivers. She thinks that perhaps she could pull herself out, tear her mind from the ghost of lips across her collarbone, but the image, and the memory it brings, is too much for her to remember, so she cries into her pillow with her eyes closed, senselessly drifting in and out of shadowed corridors and ringing laughter, glowing eyes and dark smiles. It would stop, she tells herself, and sooner rather than later finds herself chanting in the moonlight cascading through her window, relentlessly repeating the words, as if they'll bring him to her door, as if he'll slip into her room, as silent as any creature borne of hell would be, and wrap his arms around her, as soothing as any creature of heaven.

Thoughts of heaven and hell mingle until everything is a blur and she prays to anyone who will listen, begs the midnight sky, to end this. But then he's there, quietly making his way across the room and to her bedside, carefully folding the sheets from her body as she sighs in relief, barely aware of him at all, and he puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, his palm brushing against the cloth of her blue nightgown, emotions drifting into her mind and jerking her awake, mercifully pulling her from the awful places of her memories.

Nuala nearly sobs with joy, barely containing her propriety as she thinks to embrace him, so overcome with gratitude is she. She stops her arms as they swing to encircle Abraham and bites her lip, her pale hair matted to her neck in thick locks. He sits there, quickly removing his hand from her shoulder, as if the touch burns, and he folds his hands in his lap nervously, blinking rapidly in the darkness. The elf can barely make out his features, his vibrant skin smothered in shadow, and he swallows as she scoots closer to him, if only to see him properly as she thanks him, breeching the borders of his mind to express how grateful she is that he woke her. Abe nods stiffly and Nuala's taken aback by how powerful his thoughts are, how encompassing they feel, and a small gasp is ripped from her at the sentiment of it all.

He tries desperately to quell the flood of his mind, but it's far too late, and she eagerly, tenderly, brushes her mind against his, nudges him with her thoughts, and approaches the matter as if he's a frightened animal, ready to run but too curious to do so. He turns to her, gills flapping at what must be a record speed, and she can feel his heart hammering in tandem with her own as she slides ever closer, soothing thoughts of hands held tight and whispers in the dark coming to her mind, sudden flashes of knowing smiles and kisses pressed to warm cheeks.

Nuala has never thought herself one for words, always opting for a silent shadow in her court, hovering behind the strong, overpowering voices of her brother and father, and she would always find herself thinking how wrong that was, that she should be so awful with her words, that she should hold so many thoughts within her and not be able to express them as others did. But as the princess finds Abe's hand in the darkness, as he squeezes it like a lifeline, she thinks that it was right, that it was meant to be, that she find another so incapable of expressing all of those thoughts with a few carefully voiced words. She thinks it right, unbelievably so, to lean into Abe's embrace, to feel the comforting pull of his arms as they wrap around her, his icy skin cooling her heated body.

She can hear him sigh, a soft sound that brushes against the bare skin of her neck , and she gasps with surprise, tingles of pleasure like she's never known rolling through her body in a single instant, and Abe tenses. She runs a hand down his back, her fingertips stroking the fin in line with his spine, absolutely mesmerized by the feeling of it, and he shivers in her arms as a tear hits her shoulder, as cold as fresh fallen snow and as shocking as anything she's ever felt. An overwhelming sorrow comes over her- _No, Abraham, don't cry_- and Nuala finds her own eyes watering, her cheeks growing warm with fresh grief as tears burn trails down her cheeks.

Abraham- _my Abraham_- rubs her back consolingly, murmuring in her ear, and she closes her eyes against the sting of new tears. He buries his face into her neck and kisses a spot there, Nuala- _my princess_- tensing with indecisiveness. She lowers her chin to his shoulder and presses her lips against it, burning lips clashing against his chilled skin, and if the tears falling down from her eyes burn him, Abe makes no protest.

**Please R&R! ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

"You're cheating!" Red exclaims angrily, nearly flipping over the Scrabble board as he brings his stone fist down on the table, his crimson tail whipping in the air. Abe scoots his chair back quickly, wary of flying game pieces, and holds his webbed hands up in mock surrender.

"Red, we've been over this before," Abe murmurs soothingly, trying in vain to bring his friend down from his anger. Liz stifles her laughter with a pale hand, using the other to hold the TV remote as she flips through the channels, her black combat boots resting on the coffee table, legs crossed lazily. Trevor and Sierra laugh, throwing small fireballs between them like a game of Frisbee as they recline on the stairwell's carpeted steps. Nuala flinches as Red raises his voice, shoving the chair back as he looks around the kitchen, searching for a cigar, his complaints drifting behind him.

Abe blinks quickly and a sound, almost like a sigh, escapes him. "I would never use my abilities to cheat, Red, you know that," he offers, his tone frustrated.

The princess eyes the pair warily, her gaze flickering from the flame throwing twins to the giggling pyrokinetic and back to the annoyed demon spawn arguing with the icthyo sapien who holds her heart in the palm of his hands. She frowns in thought; _what a wonderful family._ Nuala scoots farther away from Liz, sliding against the plush couch cushions with care, as the woman's eyes turn fiery. Red turns to Abe, board game pieces still rolling across the floor, his mouth opening for an insult, until Liz stops him, her giggles turned to annoyed shouts.

"I can't hear the TV, guys!" They all turn to her as she sets the remote down beside her, her irises lit with dark flame. "Quiet it DOWN!"

The elf flinches and immediately takes a seat as far from Liz as possible, not too keen on having her dress singed, and Red and Abe quit their arguing as fast as it began, returning to their seats at the table in awkward, suspended silence. The twins' laughter dies with haste and they let the fireballs sizzle into the air, the scent of smoke drifting throughout the room, and Nuala doesn't know why, but she finds it all just a bit hilarious. She quickly covers her upturned mouth with her slender hand, her shoulders shaking with laughter, and averts her gaze when Liz looks at her. The woman rolls her eyes as she turns her attention back to the television, throwing every person in the room into a state of relief.

_Close call._

Abe's thoughts sound so much like his real voice that Nuala has to turn to him just to make sure he didn't actually say anything out loud, an odd glint in his dark eyes as he stares at her. Normally, after so long of brushing against her mind- of invading her privacy- or of staring at her for so long, Abe would turn away, shutting his thoughts away in politeness, but he doesn't, shouldn't, and for that Nuala gives him a smile in return for the one she knows he wishes he could express.

They've crossed_ that_ boundary, at least.

His thoughts are now so familiar to her that she often mistakes the whispers in her head for that of her own. She realizes that he's still staring, so unabashedly gazing at her from across the room, and she hardly takes any notice that the twins are smiling at them like they've discovered a wonderful secret, or that Red is looking at Abe with something akin to pride, or even that Liz's gaze has strayed from the TV, if only to dart back and forth between Abe and the princess.

All she notices, all she sees, is Abe, slumped against the chair as if in mock defeat from Liz's outburst, gills flapping wildly as his heart races in tandem with hers, as she hears its pounding in her ears, like they are one. She blinks at the thought. They _could _be, she thinks. They could develop a bond so strong, so unyielding, that it defeats the force of the one she shares with her brother, and that, she fantasizes, would be a true miracle, to share her life so intimately with the one person who deserves everything she could ever offer and more, the one person whose heart is as pure as anything she's ever seen, the one person who makes her knees weak with a single glance.

Abe tilts his head at her and she finds herself blushing from the thoughts he's heard, eyes sparkling, and a smile creeps onto her golden-hued face. She feels Abe smile in the back of her mind, like a fresh breeze in the intense heat of summer, and closes her eyes as he speaks to her, softly, through the link she knows they've created.

His voice, as dear to her as her own heart, brushes against the shell of her ear as if he's directly beside her, whispering as tenderly as a lover might, and her breath hitches.

_You look so lovely when you blush, you know, like rose-gilded gold splashed onto a sunset sky. _

**Abe's feeling a little flirtatious. ;) Please R&R! **


	9. Chapter 9

"Ladies first, Trevor!" Sierra yells into her twin's ear, making him flinch back as she pushes her way to the front of the small line they've created, all too ready for the "feast". Abe blinks at her, the wind whipping his black t shirt here and there, as he sets a plate of smoking hot dogs on the picnic table, the pads of his bare feet scuffing against the patio floor, and turns back to the grill, the scent of food wafting heavily in the air.

"Hot dogs and hamburgers are hardly anything to get worked up over, Sierra. Perhaps, instead of yelling to get to the front of the line, you should practice your manners and behave your age," he reprimands sharply as he flips a burger patty over, sending a cloud of smoke sizzling into the air.

Red chokes on his third hot dog at his friend's forward words and cracks a smile up at him, laughing at his daughter as she huffs impatiently, shifting from foot to foot as she waits in line behind Nuala, whose eyes glint with amusement. Trevor nods in appreciation up at his uncle as Liz gingerly sits down on the table bench, careful not to send her plate full of food flying into the bushes as she takes a seat by her husband.

Abe seems to have a special spot on the grill rack for Nuala's hot dogs, because they've all seen far better cooking methods than that of their fellow hot dogs, lying side by side in a corner all their own, and the princess swallows a laugh at the sight as he scoops them off the grill and deposits them onto her paper plate, his black eyes unblinking, his mind brushing against hers as she nods in thanks.

_ Why, thank you, Abraham_.

She swears that she hears his laughter in the back of her mind, a welcome noise that soothes her to her core, as she takes her seat.

_You're very welcome, princess._

Sierra rushes to her spot beside the princess, eager for the hot dog buns, and Trevor follows her just as quickly. Abe turns the grill off as he gets his food and sits down on the other side of the elf, making a conscious effort not to take her hand in his as they all start to eat. Though all too biased, and all too new, Nuala has to admit that the hot dogs are incredibly delicious, and she guesses a thousand times over that, no matter how many times he would protest the idea, Abe learned how to cook from some professional in the past.

He tilts his head at her, as if to say '_It's just a natural talent',_ and the princess ducks her head to stop herself from laughing, not too keen on the idea of choking on her lunch. She ends up eating five hot dogs, a hamburger, and a sizable amount of the little quarter sandwiches Liz decided to make, all with incredulous gazes fixed on her every move, and Red stares as she swallows her last bite, ultimately full with the new food she's finally been able to eat. He looks to his plate and back to her again with a giant smirk on his face, shoulders shaking with laughter as his amber eyes flicker to Abe, who's openly staring at her in curiosity, hot dog held in front of his mouth, movements paused in midair.

Nuala gives him a shy glance before standing, brushing her skirts of any crumbs as she takes her plate to throw it away, but a sudden choking feeling stops her, an immediate reaction akin to the air being sucked out of her lungs accompanying it as she drops her plate, the greased paper floating to the ground as Nuala gasps, pressing a hand to her stomach with concern, a habit long ago formed.

Abe drops his hot dog to rush to her side, his gills flapping rapidly, heart hammering in her own chest as she reaches out blindly, gripping his shirt sleeve with vigor as she pulls him through the glass doors and into the kitchen, gasping for air as if she can't breathe. Liz watches them go as Red mutters to himself.

"I guess she ate too much."

...

Nuala releases Abe as if he burns her, resting against the kitchen counters, desperately trying to return oxygen to her body, and tears threaten to pour out of her eyes as she gazes around her wildly, looking for something. Abe approaches her side cautiously, head tilted to the side as if he's anticipating her to hit him, and she catches his stare with a deep and worried frown, closing her eyes to press the heels of her palms into each one, golden nails glinting in the dim light.

Finally, after minutes of silence that the princess doesn't entirely believe she can waste, her breathing returns to normal, her body relaxing slightly as Abe wraps an arm around her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. Nuala tilts her head up to look at him and a tear leaves a searing trail down her pale cheek as she rests her head against his chest, feeling as if the entire world has come crumbling around them.

Abe hastily swipes it away, his cool thumb resting against her cheek. "What's wrong, Nuala?"

The elf looks to her feet, pressing both her hands against her dress, the exact spot she once carried a precious crown piece, and gives a shaky sigh.

"My brother is here. I can feel him as if he's right beside me, and I don't know what to do," she whispers hoarsely, caught up in her crushing anxiety as he takes her into his arms, holding her just as she's always wanted him to, face pressed against his collarbone as she folds into his welcoming embrace.

He runs his hands down her arms and she closes her eyes against the feeling of his fingers through her dress sleeves, so slender and cold and delicate, as if a sculptor took them from a marble slab and gave them life, gentle squeezes around her wrists as she lets him hold her. Nuala pays no mind to anything but him, the sensation of his body and hers, the awareness of every place that he touches her, sheltered for a moment in the turning of the world as it stops just for them, a breadth of time where she can lean into him as if this is their last moment on earth, and Nuala thinks that it might as well be, for all the events to come.

Red, Liz, and the twins rush past the glass doors with questioning looks, and the pair breaks apart with reluctance at the intrusion, Nuala wiping her cheeks with the backs of her sleeves, quite like a child, and Abe turns from her for a moment before coming around to Red and Liz, his own small family that her presence is about to tear asunder, and he swallows.

"The prince is here. We're not sure exactly where, but it's only a matter of time before-" and Nuala turns, her gaze steady and sure and strong, all of the things she knows that she is not but tries to be anyway, at the ghost of a murmur in her ear, a sensual feeling that she has numbed to over the centuries, and her gaze catches Nuada's with a glint of hatred in their depths.

"Before I arrive."

He slides from the shadows of the small corridor between the kitchen and living room like he was born there, wisps of darkness curling around him like old friends as he emerges, amusement in his dark lidded stare.

Abe turns quickly, his heart pounding, and the twins shrink back behind their parents, who both gaze back at the prince with steely resolve. Liz puts herself between Nuada and Sierra, planting her feet, and he smiles as he comes around to his sister, who's found herself oddly alone, with Abe all the way across the kitchen with his family, and she wants to laugh at the irony, but the desperation in Abe's stare gives her pause.

"I just came for my sister", and Nuada, with his strong grip and muscled hands, puts an arm around her waist, sliding it around the beading at her hips like he did when they were teenagers, a gesture completely possessive as he smiles darkly, "and once I have her, I'll be leaving."

Abe steps forward and Nuala shouts at him in his mind, but he shows no indication that he's heard her.

_Abraham, NO! Stay back! _ "Then I don't suppose you'll be leaving any time soon," he mutters angrily, hands curling into fists at his side.

Nuala feels her brother tense beside her and flinches, wary of the nails digging into the skin beneath her dress.

_He'll kill you, Abraham._ But Abe ignores her.

"I've long abandoned my quarrel with the lot of you, and it would be wise, Abraham, to stay out of the way before things here go awry," Nuada threatens, sharp teeth glinting within his triumphant smile as he reaches behind him to take his spear from its sheath, the blindingly bright blade shining in the light of the kitchen, ancient symbols crawling on it surface as it extends all the way to Abe's throat, nicking the skin there, and Red steps forward with rage, all but mere seconds away from ripping Nuada's throat out with his stone hand, but the prince presses the blade to Abe's throat, hard enough to draw blood, and Red stops in his tracks just as Nuala cries out in terror, mumbling in Gaelic, desperately pleading to her brother to show mercy upon Abraham, and Nuada's face lights up with fresh rage at the name as it passes her lips.

His mouth curls up in disgust and Nuala's breath hitches with the raw worry that shines in her eyes as she looks to the merman, standing stock still against the sharpness of Nuada's spear.

"_Abraham_. Out of all the creatures of the earth, you choose this…abomination, this creation that's chosen to live among humans, that acts like the humans, to be yours. How could you, sister? How could you choose him and not-" Nuala doesn't need to hear him say it to know what his next words would have been.

_How could you choose him and not me?_

She rips her arms from his mock embrace, glad to be free of his wandering hands, and backs away quickly, rage igniting a fire within her, just as it did the day she took both of their lives to spare the world. Her eyes flicker to Abraham and she sees the concern in his eyes, the hope that she won't do anything evident in his stare, and the very idea of not doing a single thing to stop this makes her angrier as she reaches past her sleeve, fingers searching for an ancient dagger, but she finds nothing. Nuada chuckles, the noise reverberating in her chest, and her blood boils as he smiles at her.

"You betrayed me once. I can't believe you would try to kill me again, sister. Siblings are supposed to love one another, until the very day they die," he murmurs softly, eyes pained, and Nuala realizes with a sharp ache in her chest that her brother didn't steal the dagger, he never even thought about it, never thought that she would kill them both for a second time, not after the life she's found.

The princess looks to the table in the middle of the room and her eyes fall upon a knife, a delicately curved hilt embossed with dark celtic symbols that dance up the deadly blade, and she lets her gaze climb up to meet Abe's.

_I had no choice._

Nuala thinks of the embrace she desperately needed just minutes before, feeling so very cherished and safe within Abe's arms as they snaked down her own, recalling the feeling of being lost within him, as he snuck into her sleeve and pulled the dagger from its hiding place.

_I couldn't let you sacrifice yourself._

The sight of him turning from her to walk over to his family. The way he turned his back toward the tabletop.

_I__'m so sorry. _

He took it from her right beneath her nose.

The princess steps forward to grab the knife, but Abe's shout of protest catches her off guard as Nuada presses his spear tighter against Abe's throat, so very close to the artery there. Nuala stops, torn between getting the dagger and securing Abe's life, and she feels like weeping when she realizes that she can do nothing, that there is not a single person in the room who can stop this.

Her stomach plummets as an empty sensation washes over her, her gaze boring into her brother's as he looks at her.

"All you have to do is come with me," he says firmly.

She nods absentmindedly and takes a step forward, completely drowning out the mental protests of all the people in the room, all the people she has come to consider family, and a voice rings out to her, hissing and shadowy and vicious, soothing her nerves at the same time that it makes them curl in fear.

She stops as her vision explodes in a show of white light, time freezing right before her as something, or _someone_, whispers in her ear, and Nuala turns to see two towering wings, dark edges nearly charred as they hide in the shadows, dozens of eyes staring down at her, all blinking in unison, and the princess' gaze finds the faceless form of the Angel of Death, spindly hands reaching out to her as the voice emanating from its mouth curls around the princess, lulling her into a deep sense of rightness, of ease and relaxation.

_Not my plan_.

Nuala thinks that she hears jumbles of words that she can put together, small snippets of voices in her head.

_Love, love._

She closes her eyes against the ghastly vision of the Angel before her, hissing its odd lullaby that has all the power in the world.

_Die, sacrifice._

Nuala feels like a fool for ever thinking that her brother was a force to fear, for the power this creature holds sends her quivering, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

_Pure heart, pure soul. _

Nuala nearly falls over with the wash of _something_ against her and she sighs to release whatever it is that she utterly feels like she needs to release.

_Give me your heart, Your Majessssssty._

Nuala stumbles in the darkness. "My family…" She tries to ask if they'll be safe, but the words are ripped from her throat before she can.

_Yessss. They will be safe. Nuada will die with youuuuu, Your Majesssssty._

The hisses blur together and Nuala thinks hard, managing to form a response.

"Yes."

And then she's falling, falling fast into a dark oblivion as the Angel's wings wrap around her, paper thin things that make her skin crawl, and Nuala opens her eyes for a moment to see Abe, standing against the backgrounds that all blur together, a spear lying across the floor as Nuada tumbles to the ground, just as she's tumbling, her skirts coming up to meet her as the cold floor kisses her cheek, and she imagines that it's Abe's lips upon her face instead, smiling as she weakly reaches out for him.

_A__braham._

_..._

Abe would be a fool to stay still while she falls, rushing to her side as she collapses upon the kitchen floor.

He's vaguely aware of shouting, and of Nuada lying limp on the floor, spear fallen useless on the ground, but he pays it no attention as he gathers Nuala into his arms, the layers of the violet silk of her dress surrounding them as terror seizes his heart. One minute, he had betrayed her, her face impassive as she walked toward her brother, and the next moment, she was fainting, folding in on herself like a fragile porcelain doll, and Abe crushes her against him, all too aware of the silence, now descending upon them like a heavy cloud.

Her pulse is a nonexistent thing, a butterfly that can't flutter its wings, and her heart doesn't beat, a drum no longer thrumming with life, and Abe feels tears race down his cheeks as he buries his face in her hair, shoulders racked with raw sobs. And yet, of all the evidence of her death, Abe finds it in him to realize that she isn't turning to stone, while the prince's lifeless body has already morphed into soft brown rock beside them, his face caught in an eternal mask of surprise. Abe pulls away to look at Nuala, her arms limply dangling at her side, her head resting against his arms as her hair sways in the breeze coming from the open glass doors, the smell of hot dogs still lingering in the air.

A rush of clarity comes to Abe as he feels a presence behind him, and the grief stricken stares, turned quickly to that of terror, aimed behind him tell him all that he needs to know. The looming shadow of wings cast before him makes him shudder and pull Nuala closer to him, placing his body overs hers as if to protect her, and a fresh wave of grief hits him as he realizes that there is nothing he can do for her, not now.

_But you cannnn_.

A voice hisses in his head and Abe turns to gaze up at the Angel of Death, his heart plummeting in terror.

_You can savvvvve herrrr. _

Abe blinks, tilting his head as his grip on the princess tightens. "How? Tell me."

_Only a pure heart can be a meaningful sacrifice. _

Abe shakes his head in confusion as he looks back to the princess, her pale face whiter than snow. He swallows, looking up at his family with an immense sadness in his heart, and he thinks that he knows how Nuala felt when she took her own life all those years ago; utterly, hopelessly, horribly suspended in a place where no one can reach you. He runs his fingers down Nuala's cheek and takes a deep breath.

"Then take my heart in exchange for hers."

The Angel laughs in its way, hissing and clicking that sends Abe's nerves on edge, and that is the last thing he hears, feeling more than seeing himself fall to the floor, a hard thud in the long silence as his eyes blink, vision swimming into a tunnel of Nuala's chest, once motionless, now weakly rising once, twice…darkness.

**Please R&R! Feedback is always appreciated! **


	10. Chapter 10

Nuala wakes with a loud gasp, desperately trying to breathe, and she squints at the brightness of the kitchen, the Angel standing before her, a devilish grin across its eyeless face, and she can distantly hear shouts and sobs behind her, where Red and Liz are collapsed on the ground, rocking back and forth, faces wet with tears as they clutch something to their chest, the twins standing behind them, holding each other as they cry, and Nuala quickly hurries to her feet.

Liz grabs her arm and pulls her into their circle, her slender shoulders shaking with sorrow, and Nuala holds her tight, determined to allow them to ride out whatever grief they feel-

Until she sees behind them, where their arms are wrapped around one another, why they're sobbing like they are, and Nuala feels as if her very heart has been ripped from her chest, stomped on, and shoved back in.

She falls back, lands on the hard floor with force, and stares, wide-eyed, at the blue arm, lying lifeless upon the floor, sticking out of the circle of people, all its own, and her body can't keep up with her mind as she rushes to him, pushing her way past Red and Liz and the children, and falls to her knees at his side. She takes his head and tenderly cradles it in her lap, hugging his torso as she pulls him to her chest, searching for a pulse that she knows isn't there, staring into eyes wide open, deep eyes with a twinkle of blue in their depths, eyes that were just moments ago filled with life and love and bright light, eyes that are now void of everything in the entire world, and Nuala doesn't recognize the sob coming from her, the completely inhuman noise she makes as she hugs Abraham to her, entirely limp as she clings to him, her whole body convulsing with sorrow as she weeps into his shoulder, rocking him back and forth, back and forth, anything to keep her mind from straying to where his own thoughts should be, anything to keep herself from reaching out, desperately searching for the place in her mind where he nestled, where he so often made her blush, where he made her laugh when she cried and then laugh so hard that she cried the good kind of tears that she so rarely ever saw.

She ignores the flashes of memory and gives in to the urge to search for him, coming up empty in the place where her friend used to be, the spot all his own that he alone occupied, the imprint of his thoughts deep in her mind, and Nuala feels like a hollow shell, like a half yearning to be whole, and Liz's arms come around her, Red on her other side, the twins sitting across from her, all of them crying over this loss, this emptiness that can't be filled.

She can feel herself spiraling out of control, barely even aware of the echoes of laughter as the Angel vanishes from sight, and the pain only deepens at each new wave of sobs. Abe's skin is cold, icy like always, but he has no life, none of the excited animation he seemed to carry, and she brushes her cheek against his chest, her burning tears soaking his shirt.

She sniffles against him, moving her head up to stare into his eyes, and her throat tightens with anguish.

_He was holding her hand, looking out at a vibrant waterfall, and then he was pressing his glove against her trembling fingers, desperately trying to sustain the image of what could have been as she faded, and she remembered the chaste kiss he gave her upon the cheek in that dream world, in that vision he created just for her, and it made her feverish body go blessedly cold as she closed her eyes, content in his embrace as the hole in her heart finally claimed her. _

The memory hits Nuala like a bullet and she curls in on herself, knowing deep down that Abe is not in that dream world, is not sitting on the dewy grass, his feet dipped in the cool water, turned from the waterfall to look into the forest beyond, waiting for her to emerge from the trees. He is not there, is not anywhere that she can reach, and out of all the tears, one escapes, singing her skin as it falls, leaving a blistering wound behind as it crosses the scars on her face, reaching her chin and dropping off onto Abe's cheek, where it leaves a lasting mark, and she closes her eyes as she leans into him, imagining that single kiss in that dream place, how heavenly his skin felt on her own, and she presses her lips to his cheek, her body feeling as if it's on fire, her eyes stinging from the pain, and pulls away from him to whisper in his ear, her voice as tender as a last breath.

"I love you, Abraham."

And the cries die, quickly, as if strangled from their throats, and laughter echoes all around them, wind from the glass doors whipping in their faces , as cold as the blizzards in December, and Nuala gasps as something moves beneath her palm.

She looks down, feeling drained of any energy she had left, and her golden eyes widen as Abe, in all of his moments spent lying dead in her arms, blinks for the first time, gills starting to flap slowly as his chest rises and falls.

She screams and wraps her arms around his neck, too overcome by anything but pure elation to release him, and Red and Liz hug them both with intense relief, tears of joy falling down their faces. The twins join in and all Nuala can think is that, now, they're a family, clinging to the one thing that does, in fact, anchor them, and Abe shifts beneath their embraces as they reluctantly release him, afraid that he'll fall dead at their feet if they do, and he tilts his head at the thoughts assaulting him.

Nuala somehow finds it in herself to pull away from him and she can barely see for all of the tear swimming in her eyes. She laughs, a choked sound, and sobs as he brings his thumb to brush against the tender burn on her face, the trail mark on her cheek identical to the one on his own, and she turns her face to brush her lips against his hand, closing her eyes as she smiles in relief, her pale eyelashes kissing the tops of her cheeks. Abe tilts his head, blinking at her.

"Do you mean it?"

The question, and the sound of a voice she never thought she'd hear again, catches Nuala entirely off guard, and she opens her milky eyes to stare at him. Her breath catches in her chest and she can feel her heart hammering against her ribs, but the burning sensation has disappeared entirely, gone from her like it was never there to begin with, and she smiles, a smile so vibrant and illuminated that Abe swears she's an angel.

"I do, Abraham. I mean it with everything that I am," she whispers, caught up in the emotion swirling in his eyes, and she reaches out to find him there, in that place in her mind designated just for him, and she sees the dream world, too, wrapped up in their shared memories, and Nuala thinks it such a shame for their last great sorrow together, when she died so long ago, to end with a rushed kiss upon the cheek.

Abe blinks at her, surely hearing her thoughts in his own head just as she hears his, and smiles, sending her heart fluttering like a captured butterfly, and the princess laughs because, indeed, he _is _smiling, lips curved in something so foreign to see on his face, and she puts a hand to the side of his head, brushing her thumb against his cheekbone.

"That's good, then, because I love you, Nuala," he says tenderly, a jolt of emotion surging in her mind, an emotion so strong and unbreakable and wonderful that she wants to cry, to wrap herself inside of this love she's found, and Abe takes her face in his shaking hands, blinking down at her as she closes her eyes, the memory of his smile like the sun coming up in a world of darkness, and crushes his lips against hers, her heart swelling in her chest, and they walk into that dream place, holding hands as they kiss beneath the rushing waterfall, bodies pressed together as their thoughts mingle, wrapped around one another beneath the gentle moonlight.

**Please R&R! ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

"The Angel likes to toy with people," Nuala murmurs, curled up within the fluffy pillows on the porch bench, gently swinging along the wind as she hugs her knees to her chest beside Abraham, who's found a comfortable spot right against the princess, his arms splayed out against the top of the bench, her head resting on his bicep as they rock back and forth.

"And she chose us to play with?" Abe suggests, idly curling a lock of her golden tipped hair around his finger, brushing the silky strands against the smooth webbing of his hand, and Nuala smiles, shaking her head with a short laugh.

"When I was a child, the Angel would visit often, giving me odd gifts that I never understood; a doll's head, a button, a ruined bracelet, things that no one would ever want." She shifts so that her back is pressed against his bare chest, her pulse quickening at the feel of his skin through her dress, and Nuala finds herself imagining how he tastes, how he feels, everything about him that she can't seem to get enough of.

"She didn't seem to like my brother, or anyone, very much, but she took an interest in me. I recall asking her if she could see the future, once", Nuala turns again so that their chests are pressed together, "and she said that what is to come only reveals itself to her in flashes, as if a great wave of memories not quite all remembered. She would cackle at me if I asked anything more."

Abe releases her hair and squeezes her shoulders as she leans into him. "She would often talk of love, tell elaborate fairytales of charming princesses finding their knights in shining armor and living happily ever after. I was so young, so naïve to believe her stories, but perhaps that's why she liked me. And when I asked her if I'd find _my_ knight, she just looked at me and said that I would have to make a grave sacrifice, one that could only be made by someone who indeed felt love, and that he would have to do the same for me."

Nuala stops, then, and tilts her head up to gaze at Abe, a quizzical look on her face.

"Huh", she says, eyes bright, "I just now realized what she meant."

Abe smiles down at her and nods, the swish of his gills loud against her ear as he hugs her, her face pressed to his neck as she kisses him there. He stops, his shoulders tensing, and she smiles against his gills, nuzzling her nose in between them as he swallows thickly. She closes her eyes, inhaling his ocean-breeze scent, a smell reminding her of days long gone spent running up and down mythical beaches, the salty water frothing up between her toes as the sand fell away beneath the soles of her small feet. She lets the moment pass and sighs against him as he brings his arms around to encompass her, pulling her close. The weight of his body pulls at her until she's nearly hypnotized, completely mesmerized by the simple sensation of being with him.

"I'll have to return to Bethmora soon," she whispers, careful not to disturb the silence of the moment, but Abe shifts away from her, an unexpected gesture that leaves her feeling hollow, her arms lying limp at her sides with nothing to hold onto.

"What?" Abe asks, disbelief sneaking into his voice. Nuala looks to her feet, tucked up under her dress like a child's, and sighs longingly.

"I miss my people, Abraham, and they need their queen." He weaves his fingers together, the action difficult because of his webbing, and he shakes his head. "You have advisors, a whole council of elves that cane take your place."

At his words, Nuala looks up sharply, her lips parted for a response, and Abe rushes ahead of her. "I mean, no one can take your place, per say. They can just…lead Bethmora until you come back," he explains quickly, blinking at her from across the bench. Nuala stands to leave, smoothing her skirts stiffly.

"Which would be now. Excuse me."

Abe hurries to grab her wrist before she walks away, spinning her around to face him, and he puts his palm against her cheek, gently cupping her face as she closes her eyes, sighing as she opens them again to stare up at him.

"You could always…visit. Have your council take care of Bethmora. After all, you've already started to rebuild the city; they can finish the job." Nuala shakes her head. "But where would I go?"

Abe kisses her ,then, a gentle, last-second-on-earth kind of kiss that would have sent Nuala staggering if not for the press of hands on her hips, the soft way he holds her as supporting as it is comforting, and he pulls away, leaving her breathless in front of him. He pushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear, dragging his finger down the already healing mark down her cheek, his fingertip brushing past the horizontal scar across her face and running down the tick marked scars across it, and Nuala twists her lips up in a gesture that tells Abe she's thinking.

"You could stay here…with me. With this family," he offers, clinging to her like a lifeline.

_Perhaps_.

Her voice rings in his head and he reaches out, caught up in the link they share, and he laughs in her mind.

_It's a very good idea, you know. _

Nuala nods and laughs out loud, smiling brightly as she kisses Abe, yelping as he picks her up by the waist and swings her in a giant circle, her azure skirts billowing out around her in a plume of ocean colored satin. Nuala wraps her arms around his neck as he swings her, hugging him close as they laugh together, in perfect harmony, and Abe finds a moment to think that, in all of his past suffering and anguish, in all of his surety that Nuala was meant to be the ghost haunting his dreams, he was horribly mistaken.

She wasn't meant to be an echo of laughter quickly fading, or the memory of a smile flashing behind his eyelids; she was destined to be a hand held in the dark, a flicker of hope in a sea of desperation, and the angel that swept into the darkest corners of his nightmares, brilliant wings spread about her as she gave his life light.

**Please R&R! **


	12. Epilogue

50 years later

Nuala's golden dress whips around her, wisps of the sun hugging her legs as the wind blows about her, and the strong scent of salt water meets her nose as she walks along the beach, the sand falling away beneath her bare feet, ocean water frothing up to kiss her pale skin.

Abraham comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist lovingly, hugging her from behind as he rests his chin on her shoulder, and she smiles. Her wedding ring glints in the light cast from the sunset, the careful stitching around her waist shining in the shadows. Abraham releases her to take her hand, walking step by step beside her, and the pale scar on his cheek crinkles when he smiles down at her, just as it crinkles on her own face when she returns the gesture.

The white sand, warm against her skin, reminds her of their first daughter, mystical eyes with swirling colors of gold, blue, and purple within their shadowed depths, and a smile that lit up the room, hair as pale as the moon and skin as warm as an inferno. The memory pulls at her heart, reminding Nuala of things that she can't get back, and at the bittersweet thought, images of Red and Liz come to her mind, clapping triumphantly at Sierra and Trevor's graduation ceremony, beaming from ear to ear.

_Sierra and Trevor_.

The crimson arms limply dangling from the windows of that Jeep Wrangler, windshield smashed to pieces as the car laid on its side, tires spinning in the wind.

Liz's heart had died that day, Nuala thinks with certainty, and the memory of Liz comes, unbidden, with flashes of sorrow as they turned her over in bed, eyes wide open, hand halfway clutching her chest, face a peaceful mask. Red had nearly broken down, if not for Abe.

And then the thought of Red sends an angry jolt of pain through her. Red, with his graying hair and wrinkles, smiling up at them from a sunken face, the rot of the hospital wing pungent in the air, as he faded into a single monotonous beeping, a red line across a monitor screen.

Abe's pain, already burdened with grief, hurt Nuala more than her own sorrow, and it took a good decade for him to stop visiting their graves every month, curled in on himself on the cemetery ground, sobbing into the headstones as she hugged him. She made sure that their legacies never withered, telling her own children stories and making sure that they told their children, determined to keep their memories alive, and Abe watched them weave their tales with amusement, losing himself in his thoughts.

Their first daughter, Trinity, with her odd eyes and carefree smile, left a little boy behind her when she died during childbirth, leaving an empty hole in Nuala's heart, clutching Abraham in the hospital hallway, both of them sobbing into each other's shoulder. It wasn't until her husband was on his death bed, clutching their hands, did they find it in themselves to release her memory. The boy, Aiden, had his own children, and was just as adept at storytelling as Abe and Nuala's only son, Mark. Mark was all sharp smiles and pointed ears, a head full of dark hair framing his pale face, with one golden eye and one blue eye, large irises standing out, with a sense of raw humor to match Red's, who enjoyed the weekly visits from his nieces and nephews.

Mark never dated, never saw the lure in it, and Nuala found herself falling as she dropped the phone, a doctor murmuring on the other end, telling her that a drunken driver had crashed into their car, the very first time Mark had driven without them, his license fresh in his wallet, and then he was gone. Trinity had held them both close, crying with them as they sat in Mark's room, rocking back and forth on his empty bed.

Their second daughter, their third and last child, was a ball of energy, blond curls bouncing atop her shoulders as she ran around, clutching her butterfly kite for dear life as it floated in the air, her giggles echoing in the wind. The house had been void of children for years, Trinity's death too fresh for anything else, and Faolin, named after a certain elf reluctantly sitting on the throne of Bethmora, was just what they both needed. Abraham seemed to brighten when she was around, holding her close, spoiling her with his every move, and Nuala smiled at their daughter when she tugged on her mother's dress, golden eyes wide and curious.

Faolin grew, as all children do, and married, having six children of her own, and she lived out her years happily, growing slowly, always looking at pictures of her dead siblings, wishing that she had known their kind smiles. Abraham never let the opportunity go, of course, to tell his daughter all about them, and he taught her a few things about grief, and pain, and immense sorrow, which she finally understood when she outlived her husband, being half immortal. Her children, who grew slower than humans, had golden flecks in their eyes, sharp teeth when they smiled, and they outlived their mother to have families of their own.

Nuala thinks of car accidents, of heart attacks and cancer, of childbirth and old age, and wishes that she could get back what those things took from her, those precious faces she can barely recall now.

Abraham squeezes her hand, thinking the same thing, and Nuala sighs, blinking in surprise as children run past them, their small feet sending sprays of salt water and sand into the air, and their laughter is all too familiar. They turn, with golden flecks in their eyes and sharp teeth that glint in the light, one girl with a blue streak in her hair giggling as they fly their kites, making a game out of who can avoid getting them tangled.

Nuala will always be able to spot the descendants, their ancestry written all over their faces, and when the children look upon them, they don't flinch, not as so many people used to, not as they still do, because they were raised with mythical stories and legends that seeped into their dreams; mythical stories about a woman with golden eyes and a man with fins, whose love was so strong that it transcended time and lived on in the hearts of their children and their children's children, lived and breathed and thrived, until the very end of time.

The children run ahead, disappearing out of sight, and Nuala squeezes her husband's hand, flashes of faces pressing against her mind, and she breathes in, one big breath that she feels Abraham take beside her, and, together, they let it out, letting go of all of the faces of their past, long forgotten laughter dissipating in the summer breeze, the scent of salt water carried along with it as voices echo in the air.

_Why are you following me?_

Nuala closes her eyes.

_I was not_.

Abraham squeezes her hand.

_Did my brother send you, to steal the crown piece? _

She can feel his love, so overpowering and amazing that it brings tears to her eyes, a comforting constant in her ever changing life of eternity.

_Your brother? You're sorely mistaken, I assure you…_

He smiles beside her, watching, captivated, as the dying shine of the sunset reflects against her honey tinted irises, knowing in his heart that he would die a thousand times over for this one woman, this keeper of his very heart and soul, and Abraham feels himself falling in love all over again, remembering the sting of a dagger pressed to his throat like it was yesterday.

_Then answer me truthfully; why were you following me?_

**FIN. I have this idea that, when you're cursed with time, you have a way of seeing horrible and awful things, yet still seeing the good in life, like Nuala and Abe. Of course, people die, (in various ways) and their children are no exception. ;) Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! **


End file.
